


Summit.

by antiprotag



Category: Fate/stay night (Visual Novel)
Genre: A small drabble I wrote while listening to some instrumentals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:53:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12013167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antiprotag/pseuds/antiprotag
Summary: Archer likes to play with fire because he loves to feel the burn.





	Summit.

“A man like you has no honor.”

_Yes. You’re right._

Archer gives a bitter smile. They would fight like rabid dogs until the sun sets and the moon wanes. A spear pierces and a sword slashes; two different weapons, one definite end for which they are made. They would clash without reason or duty, the two of them, but a thin mask of responsibility seems to make it all the more worth it, or so he'd like to tell himself. 

Though he'd been able to push him back, his remaining efforts were never truly enough--his enemy is faster and far more agile, quick to strike and send his weapons flying before they disappear into thin air, arms wide open, mouth slightly agape. There is no time to counter, no room left for him to shield the blow, and so his heart is struck before his eyes can register the impact. Lungs rattle and flesh runs hot, blood forcing it’s way up his throat. His back hits the ground and earth shatters below his form, spear still nestled between soft tissue. It’s an easy win, one the other man has never been too fond of, but he takes it like an offering made with good intent.

They both know that his is a game of self pity. He lays himself bare before others because he has nothing left.

He would fade just as easily as the day or the night. It’s not long before the bright red spear is yanked from his chest, a quick jolt sent down his spine in response. His eyes stay wide while Lancer stands beside his broken body, nose upturned and eyes piercing just like weapon in hand. Archer laughs, weak and bubbling with blood, but he laughs, amused by his own defeat, pleased with his own finale. _A fitting end._

“A man like you is unforgivable.”

He leaves him with another smile. A smile with fervor this time around, misplaced and strange though it may be.

“Yes.. you’re right.”


End file.
